


Campfire Stories

by TheDragonQueen



Category: Legend of Spyro, Spyro the Dragon (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Wordcount: Over 1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 18:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4403048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDragonQueen/pseuds/TheDragonQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ignitus and the other Guardians take Spyro and Cynder out into the forest for a night of camping and ghost stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Campfire Stories

“What are we doing out here, Ignitus?”

The older creature chuckled, not even bothering to hide the slyness in his voice.  “Patience, young dragon.”

That seemed to placate Spyro, but the black dragon walking beside him was still wary, and immeasurably suspicious of the evening’s events.  The youthful pair were being escorted to an unknown destination by all four of the Guardians.  Usually, whenever the older dragons decided to train them in some aspect, they would at least attach a lesson or instructions to the exercise, but they’d all remained studiously silent.  Not to mention that they rarely reserved all four of their tutelage for a simple lesson or activity.  But even more odd was that Hunter had decided to tag along as well, which just made Cynder even more suspicious.

The black dragon studied her friend’s face.  She typically had an easier time understanding him than the others.  But he appeared just as clueless as she was.  Which definitely didn’t bode well.  As a purple dragon, Spyro was frequently reminded of the power he’d grow into and the responsibility that power would entail.  So, the Guardians were more often than not fairly keen on teaching him everything they could.  If they’d kept him entirely in the dark, then it meant what they were heading towards was either some kind of test or a task they’d have to complete.  Just to be safe - and in some measure, prepared - Cynder thought it would be best to start formulating different plans of action in her head.

She was in the middle of reviewing the different techniques she and Spyro had concocted together when the red dragon cleared his throat and she realized they’d come to a halt.  In front of them was a wall of brambles and bushes and hanging vines forming a wall to block the well-worn path they’d been following.  She glanced to Spyro, but the purple dragon was looking at their elder.  When she lifted her gaze to do the same, Ignitus began.

“My young pupils, you have both been working very hard.  So hard, in fact, that the other Guardians and I have decided to give you a break from your training.  Tonight, we have led you to a very special place where the youth of dragons long past gathered to forge bonds, relax, and enjoy themselves away from their trials.”  With that, the red dragon raised a foreclaw and pulled back the foliage, revealing an unexpected sight.

Beyond the path was a clearing, just big enough for the whole group, and then some.  In the center of the clearing was a large aquamarine crystal surrounded by piles of lumber.

Cynder thought it looked a bit too... well, new; she doubted this was the site of ancient dragonling activities.  Or, if it was, the Guardians had spent quite a long while sprucing the area up.  Either way, she couldn’t think of a reason not to take Ignitus’s word on the matter.  A shared glance with Spyro revealed the purple dragon had come to a similar conclusion, but he still seemed filled with more questions.  In all honesty, so was Cynder.  But she was much more willing to let the other dragon make inquiries.

“You said dragons would bond with each other here.  Is that... what we’re doing?”  As Spyro spoke, the four Guardian dragons lead the way into the clearly, followed closely by their feline companion and then shortly after by their young charges.

“As a matter of fact, it is.  Often, when dragons your age required a reprieve from their guidance under their elders, they would venture into the forests surrounding the Temple and seek out sparse clusters of crystal.  They would light a fire ‘round the crystal, gather close, and regale each other with imaginative tales and fantasies of their own design.”

“So, we’re just going to hear more lessons.”  Cynder cast a look back to the others from where she’d wandered while inspecting the crystal herself and was happy to see her teasing earned a smile from Spyro.

Ignitus’s muzzle twitched in amusement as well while Cyril sputtered nearby.  And before he could retaliate, Ignitus beat the ice dragon to the punch.  “I assure you, Cynder, you won’t be receiving the typical instruction this night that you normally might.”  That gave the black dragon pause and she quickly retreated back to her friend’s side.  Thankfully, Cynder would have another outlet for her sardonic nature.

“Finally!  Should I even ask why you guys are way out here?”

Cynder rolled her eyes as everyone’s attention was drawn to the trees where a small yellow dragonfly flew into the open.  Of course, Spyro gave his adoptive brother a much warmer reception.  “Sparx! You finally woke up!”

“Yeah, thanks for leaving me in that spooky Temple on my own, by the way.”

While the purple dragon looked abashed, Cynder wasn’t going to let the dragonfly be the only one to make jabs.  “I’m sure it was terrifying having only yourself for company.”  Sparx stuck his tongue out at her and she had to resist the urge to reciprocate the gesture.

“I look forward to tonight,” Hunter chimed in, effortlessly shifting the form of conversation as he studied the perimeter of the clearing.  “If it is anything like the games the children sometimes play in my village...”  The feline didn’t continue his thought.  Actually, he didn’t do much of anything besides sweep the perimeter.  Normally, she wouldn’t think that too unusual - Hunter had always seemed rather innocuously distant - but the black dragon was having a harder time reading him than was typical.  He also usually didn’t linger on matters, but appeared to be taking extra time in scoping the area.  Cynder wanted to ask Spyro if their feline friend seemed at all odd to him but he was too engrossed in talking with his dragonfly brother, so she remained silent.  She’d have a chance to talk to the both of them about it later.

Besides, a moment later, Ignitus’s voice drew the attention of the group once again.  “We still have some time before the festivities begin, when night truly falls.”  The red dragon’s head swiveled to meet the gaze of his fellows.  “Cyril, Terrador; why don’t you both work to get us all food; Hunter and Volteer, find some additional wood in case we have need to rekindle the fire later tonight.”  The black and purple dragons and their insectile companion watched as everyone split up to complete their respective duties.  But Ignitus quickly pulled their attention back to him.  “Spyro, Cynder; follow me and I will show you a relic of your ancestry.”

“Oy, great.  Of course, I gotta show up before the history lesson.”

The fire dragon chuckled.  “On the contrary, Sparx.  This is a lesson in entertainment.”  Cynder couldn’t deny the small hint of satisfaction at seeing the dragonfly’s dumbstruck look, even if she was just as confused as him.  “As you know, dragons can tap into the magic of crystals in a variety of different ways.  More often than not, dragons draw upon the dormant energy within crystals to rejuvenate themselves and restore their reserves.  Skilled dragons can record thoughts and recollections within a crystal or use two separate gems to communicate with other dragons.

“However, it was the youth of our race that discovered another use for them.”

Here, the older creature paused.  And Spyro, taking his cue, asked, “What did they do?”

The red one smiled wryly, obviously pleased at the purple dragon’s inquiry.  “By clearing one’s mind and maintaining contact with the crystal,” Ignitus stopped again so that he could give the trio a clear view as he placed one great claw upon the aquamarine gem in front of him.  “Dragonlings of the past learned that they could think of new things and conjure wisps of images; not of memories or studies, but those of pure imagination.”  As he spoke, the depths of the crystal flickered and a ribbon of light erupted from it.  Within this incandescent ribbon appeared shadowy impressions of two dragons flying in circles around each other.  The images were basic, barely any detail beyond their silhouettes; and they never changed from the same blue shade as the crystal they’d originated from.  But they were clearly there, summoned from the gem by Ignitus’s mere whim.

 

* * *

 

Some time - and a few attempts Spyo and Cynder made using the crystal - later, when their bellies were all full and the two moons were bright crescents on the horizon, the group laid around the aquamarine crystal.  A ring of fire had been lit, burning strongly around it.  Cynder and Spyro were nestled close to the flames, with Sparx flittering around the purple dragon’s head.  Ignitus sat on his haunches on Cynder’s other side while Terrador rested comfortably near Spyro.  Cyril and Volteer each took their places next to the other Guardians; Hunter, meanwhile, had found a small log to sit on across the fire from the young dragons.

The black dragon was absorbed in watching the embers flicker from the depths of the flames when she felt a wing brush hers and turned to Spyro.  He gave her a brief smile before Ignitus called for the group’s attention and the two dragons looked up to him.

“Now that we all have had time to relax, I think it would be prudent to begin our activities.”

“Yippee, can’t wait,” Sparx remarked.

The Fire Guardian continued as if he hadn’t heard the dragonfly.  “Spyro, Cynder, and Sparx; remember what I told you about the gems a little while ago.  Tonight, we will share tales and fantasies of our own imagining.  Tonight, we’ll revel in mystique and entertainment.”  Cynder caught the faces Sparx was making and feigned stretching her wing to send a slight gust of wind to knock him off balance.

Ignitus pointedly feigned not having caught that, as well.  “I will start our night off with the tale of a dragon with dangerous ambition.”

Spyro and Cynder shared a skeptical look as the red dragon once again placed his claw upon the crystal.  “Many, many years ago, there was a dragon born as black as the midnight sky.”  As he spoke, the crystal flashed to life and erupted with ribbons of light once more, showing the image of a dragon not much older than the two next to him.  “But his eyes shone as bright as the moons, the stars reflected in his eyes.

This dragon mastered no element, nor showed any desire to learn to wield the magics of his race.  Instead, he mastered knowledge and philosophy.  Within the tomes of his ancestors, he found a power even more great than nature, itself.  He found the magic of the stars.”  Books and scrolls and other dragons flickered briefly in the air as the titular dragon aged, the knowledge he gained visually expressed through his horns and ruffles and flares all gaining more definition than the rest of him.  Above the shadowy figure of the dragon, images of stars twinkled brightly.

“The dragon yearned to fly higher into the sky than any dragon has ever flown.  He yearned for the power to pluck the stars from the heavens and pull them down to the earth.”

The dragon’s silhouette reached up to the stars, but the glittering lights rose up out of his reach.

“Eventually, the dragon did find such power.  By using the magic of the stars themselves, he imbued himself with the light from the moon.  The dragon with scales of midnight turned incandescent.”  The dragon in the light of the crystal suddenly began to glow and the image lifted off the transparent ground and flew towards the shining lights above.  “But as he finally grasped the stars of the night sky,” Ignitus continued, the shadowy form of the dragon reaching out and wrapping his claws around a few of the stars.  “The dragon felt the power contained within him overwhelm his form.  And he turned to dust, scattering across the heavens with the stars he so desperately desired.”

Cynder shivered as she watched the shape of the dragon break up and become more glittering dots that shone alongside the ones it tried to take.

Beside her, all Spyro could say was “Wow.”

The black dragon was starting to suspect what kind of “fun” the Guardians were trying to have.  And although she was looking forward to how tonight would progress, she didn’t think it was off to a successful start.  After all, the story Ignitus just told seemed... sad, more than anything else.

“Hmm,” the red dragon rumbled.  And judging by his expression, he certainly seemed to have expected a more vocal reaction.

At least he would always get one from Sparx.  “Yeah, ‘wow’.  That was kinda creepy.”

“I suppose it is not a tale for everyone,” was the elder’s only response.  He removed his talons from the crystal, the gem’s light slowly fading, and looked around the gathered audience.  “Well, who would care to share another story?”

Almost instantly, the ice dragon across from him jerked to attention.  "Yes, I do!  Exceptional little tale I’ve been concocting, if I do say so myself.”

Ignitus bowed his head and motioned for Cyril to use the crystal.  However, the blue-scaled dragon shook his head.  “Inconsequential, my old friend.  This is a tale much better imagined solely in one’s own facilities.”  Cynder didn’t exactly know what that would bode for the rest of them, but the ice dragon seemed determined.

“Imagine, if you will, a crisp, twilit evening on a cliff.  A lovely young couple sit in their enclosed little garden, looking out through a gate on the sunset.  When night falls, the young fellow feels a craving for sheep and leaves to sate his stomach.  Hours pass and he returns not!  His companion begins to grow anxious.  Even more so when she begins to hear something scraping along the walls of their garden; and a voice tries to compel her.  It says, ‘Come out, come out’ but she refuses.  After the voice and the scraping quiets, she waits before fleeing through the gate to find her lover.  But when she comes outside, she sees there is no dragon; only the empty gate, a claw of metal, and the sound of wingsbeats beyond the gate.”

Silence greeted the end of Cyril’s tale.  Cynder had a hard time trying to articulate her feelings on the ice dragon’s... story.  That is, until Sparx burst into laughter without warning.

“Sparx,” his brother reprimanded him, his voice low.

Next to the purple dragon, Terrador cleared his throat.  “Well, that was certainly something, Cyril.”

The blue dragon sputtered, “Something!”  He looked between each of their faces.  Cynder opted to keep her expression entirely neutral, but apparently that was still condemning for the icy elder.  The older dragon sniffed at the group and settled back down without a word.

After another moment of long-suffering silence, Ignitus cleared his throat.  “Yes, well, does anyone else have a story they would like to tell?”

Surprisingly, it was Hunter who leapt at the chance next.  The Cheetah warrior rose from his log after quickly stoking the campfire around the blue crystal.  He rolled his shoulders in a sweeping shrug that left his cloak fluttering faintly after him.  “I’m not sure how well this tale will be received by dragons, considering it is an old oral keepsake of my village.”

He paused then and, hearing no complaint or objection, continued.  “Legends tell of a long-forgotten Cheetah, so ancient that her name has been lost to time.  She is known only as the Witch of Avalar.”  As he spoke, Hunter paced slowly around the fire, briefly meeting the gaze of each dragon as he passed them.  When he caught Cynder’s eye, she could’ve sworn she heard bushes rustling nearby but, when she looked, saw no sign of disturbance.

“The Witch of Avalar was once an ordinary Cheetah, who lived an ordinary life with her family and her village.”  Here, he paused, letting the tension build slightly before continuing, “But one day, a mysterious traveler arrived in the village from some unknown, far off land.”

Cynder was sure she’d heard a twig snap just then, because Sparx had heard it too!  The golden yellow dragonfly had jumped at the sound, but only smiled sheepishly when Spyro shot him a questioning look.  The black dragon scanned the surrounding foliage.  It couldn’t have been an animal, could it?  Why would one venture so close to so many dragons?

She returned her attention to Hunter’s story as he began circling the campfire again.  The Cheetah began using his hands to tell the story now, shaping their shadows into figures.  “Now, this Traveler caused quite a commotion within the Witch’s village.  He was handsome, suave, dangerous, and appeared to come from a prosperous family of his own.  Many of the villagers attempted to attract the attention of the Traveler, but it was the Witch who finally caught his eye.  For a long while, the two wooed each other.  The Traveler even gave her two beauteous silver rings, one for her to slip onto his tail and another which he did for her.

But when the Witch returned home one day from scouring the village’s local hunting grounds, it was to the sight of her entire family slain while she’d been away.”  He paused again here, looking to each member of his captive audience to absorb their each of their reactions to the story’s dreadful twist.

It was certainly a woeful tale, Cynder could say that much.  But it was clear to her that Hunter’s story was far from over.  When she glanced to Spyro, she could plainly see the look of dismay on his face.

“A gleam in the floor of her family’s hut dragged her gaze downward and, there, she found the silver ring of the Traveler’s tail.  With a scream of utter sorrow and fury, the Witch burst from her home and held her’s and the Traveler’s rings up to the sky, declaring to all the gods and ancient spirits of the world that she would take revenge for the loss of her loved ones.  And there the rings stayed in the sky, transforming into glowing silver crescent moons that shown their light down on the Witch and gave her the dark magic she asked for.  There was a creak of floorboards from behind her--”

At this, there was in fact a creaking sound emanating from the surrounding forest.  Instantly on guard, Cynder’s wings twitched in a slight jump of alarm as her head twisted around to try and find the source of the noise.  When she looked up, she caught sight of the treetops swaying in a gentle night breeze.  Reprimanding herself, Cynder forced herself to relax, at least barely, and turned back to the warrior telling his story; only just casting a swift glance skyward to see the two crescent moons shining high.

“The Witch turned back to her home to see her family, dragged back into a half-life by the power of the silver moons.  The Witch used this newfound power to track down the Traveler as he’d returned to his own village and took her revenge on him and all of his fellows.  And with the deed done...”  The Cheetah warrior trailed off momentarily before offering a small shrug of one shoulder.  “Most say the Witch withdrew from the world and was never heard from again.  But there are some who believe the Witch lives still, having resurrected the whole of the Traveler’s village with her dark power, the grasping claws of the long-dead...reaching out...to sate her desire...for vengeance!”

At Hunter’s loud proclamation, Cynder felt something grab her hind leg and her heart nearly stopped.  She heard a shriek from Cyril and saw Spyro move beside her.  She whipped around, jerking her leg out of the soft grip and swinging her tail in a dangerous arc.

Thankfully, the Cheetah behind her was quick enough to avoid the blow.  The young dragon had to do a double-take at the figure before her.  They definitely didn’t look dead.  Actually, Cynder was sure she’d seen him before...in Hunter’s village!

At Ignitus’s booming laughter behind her, Cynder turned to find a Cheetah crouching near each dragon, clearly either still holding onto one limb or another or evidently having let go at the threat of retaliation.  Hunter, still near the campfire, was grinning smugly.

Spyro put the pieces together a second before she did, and he began laughing.  Cynder shot a look at the Cheetah beside her.  She figured she should probably apologize for almost battering him, but she didn’t really feel inclined to do so after the whole stunt.

She was saved by having to do so when the Cheetah himself told her he was sorry.  Grinning just as wide as Hunter was.  Returning only a stiff nod, Cynder shuffled a little closer to Ignitus and Spyro before settling down on the ground again.  Ignitus congratulated Hunter on his story and invited the other Cheetahs to join them around the fire.  Cyril and Volteer scooted out of the way together in order to make room, and also to possibly put some distance between themselves and their surprise visitors.

Ignitus seemed to have finally been appeased with everyone being frightened by Hunter’s story and declared the exchange over.  He brought out the remaining food from the earlier hunting excursion and they all shared a late-night meal.

With all of their stomachs once again full and all of their disquiet from the chilling tales settled, the dragons and Cheetahs around the fire-lit crystal layed down to rest.

The fires had burned down to embers by the time Cynder finally fell asleep, curled together with Spyro under Ignitus’s wing and Sparx snoring atop the purple dragon.

 


End file.
